Puppet Master
by silverscissors
Summary: Ryou is sitting quietly in his room... and what an odd place that is... (my 1st attempt of angst...sorry)


Puppet Master  
  
The boy sat quietly on his bed. Watching the rain pour down, but not really seeing it at all... listening for a long while to the tapping sound the raindrops made as they splattered on the window, but hearing nothing. He looked deep in thought, peaceful and serene. The boy got up and walked once around his room. It was a quite unusual place. All around, on the bookshelves, the dressers and even on the work desk, were little dolls. Little Japanese ayatsuri, each one unique, each with a different face, each wearing different clothing. Not two were the same.  
It gave the room an eerie atmosphere, almost scary; it was as if they  
were alive. Their wide eyes, blank of expression, seemed to watch the boy as he made his way slowly to the window, folded his arms onto the windowsill and leaned on it. He sighed. The dolls watched the boy still, never taking their eyes off his back. He seemed aware of it. Half turning his head, he returned the pleading gaze the nearest puppet gave him. Then he spoke, seemingly to no one. "Sumimasen..." he whispered. His long silvery hair fell gently over his shoulders, face and onto his back. He brushed out of his emerald green eyes and it was clear that he was on the verge of tears. "I had only wanted a friend..." The dolls stared back. The boy winced. Every single little face was turned to him. Was he dreaming? ... no, he knew it was real. He knew it his heart, but could not accept it. The boy shifted a little. It was as if the dolls were shouting at him, but no sound could be heard. Yes, he could hear them. The boy heard the puppets speaking to him. He could hear them scream. Hear them cry. Hear them plead to be released. He felt their pain. He felt the tears roll down his cheeks and tasted the salt in his mouth. "It's not my fault," he continued. He walked soundlessly over to the nearest ayatsuri and picked it up. It had the face of a girl... a girl with blue eyes and long sleek navy hair tied up with a yellow ribbon... Miho... yes, the boy remembered her name. He would never forget that one. Nor would he ever forget those of any other ones. That was the least he could do: remember. He could not bring them back. He knew that at least. He looked down at the doll. It stared back up at him. He could see it clearly, the day this little doll came to be in his possession. For it was at first a real person. Just like all the other puppets were. This one happened to be another student at his school. Her name was Miho and she had had a crush on him. That is why she ended up like this. The boy's eyes welled up with tears again. "I'm sorry..." There was no answer. The ayatsuri could not talk. But the boy she did not blame him. Nonetheless, he felt so guilty. Poor souls. Trapped. Never to be released from this from. That of a child's doll. "You cannot blame me..." He set the puppet down gently and with a last glance at Miho's sad, sad eyes, he walked over to his bed once more. And turned on his heel, facing all of his room; all of the ayatsuri. "...can you?" Only silence answered. The boy sighed once again. He felt so tired, so sad, so useless, so guilty, and so powerless. That's when a cold wind swept the room. The boy seemed to know what was happening, but he had a fearful look in his eyes. Then, like a mirage, another boy came out of nowhere and stood next to the first one. He looked the same, yet somehow older, darker... The Dark one spoke first, "Lonely, yadonushi?" "Hai..." The second boy smirked cruelly at the first's pained expression. "Then we should get you more toys to play with..." Light looked up, terrified. The puppets watched in tense silence. Who would be the new add to their owner's collection? Light pleaded and screamed. His shrieks echoed all throughout the quiet household, striking the little wooden hearts of the dolls. But Dark stayed laughed demonically, enjoying the pain of his other half. Lightning struck at the very moment Dark had laughed and the puppets stared. The room was lit up just enough to spot the shine of a golden object hanging by a string on the boy's neck. There was a small flash of light, and the Light's shouting was cut short. Then, silence, except for the heavy rain. Light was gone; back into his soul chamber. Only Dark remained. He swept the room with his piercing dark purple glare and grinned as he spotted the Miho ayatsuri weeping silently. Streams of crystal clear drops fell form her azure blue eyes onto the floor, the sound of their falling masked by the storm outside. Dark's grin widened. He had never shown mercy to those weaker than himself and even less to the few who were foolish enough to think themselves stronger. Light was weak and Dark was strong. That was why things went Dark's way. Poor souls are those who are about to join this little puppet show... From inside his soul room, the crying Light heard Dark say: "You are but a puppet, yadonushi... and I am the puppet master..."  
  
~!~!~!~!~!~  
  
Alright, well I have no idea whatsoever where that came from. If you don't understand this, you must know that: Neither do I. The whole story with Yami no Bakura trapping the souls of Miho and many, MANY other students into the bodies of little dolls comes in here. Apparently, he had done it for "Yadonushi to have friends because he was lonely"... I guess you could say he's thoughtfull in his own little way... ^^; 


End file.
